


Monarch

by fiones



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, M/M, Pregnancy, Sexism, fem!Bilbo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-13
Packaged: 2018-01-07 09:24:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1118238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiones/pseuds/fiones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dwarf women are a rarity. Hobbit women are not. No one is quite prepared to deal with what that might mean for the future of Erebor's royal family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

When she awoke on the edge of the battlefield as the sun set, the air around her was heavy with the stench of blood and gore. It took her several moments, as she lie there blinking up at the darkening sky, to place exactly where she was and why she was there in the first place. It came back to her in small snippets.  
  
The dragon was dead, she knew that with certainty. And after that, what had happened? They'd been cooped up in the mountain, and Thorin had been... Thorin had...  
  
She frowned deeply as her memory of the ordeal with the Arkenstone came back to her. Thorin had been taken over by the gold sickness, and everything had gone incredibly downhill as a result, culminating in the great battle that had just taken place. She vaguely recalled coming to join the fray even though, really, she had no business being part of it at all. She was Bilbo Baggins, a simple hobbit from the Shire, she didn't belong in the heat of a true battle that easily could have escalated into an all-out war between several nations. But she had come back, and at some point she'd taken a rock to the head, typical. She put the thoughts of all other things she had seen during the battle to the back of her mind, not wanting to dwell on the sights and sounds of dwarves, men, and elves falling all around her.  
  
Gingerly, she pushed herself up onto her elbows, blinking against the sharp pain in her head. Glancing around to get her bearings, she realized she was very much alone with only a few bodies lying around her. (In the growing dark, she could not tell who or what they were.) Bilbo brought a hand up to touch the spot where the rock had collided with her head and sure enough she found blood there. How had no one found her like this? Slowly and carefully, Bilbo climbed back to her feet, swaying for a moment before she steadied herself. Her injury wasn't that bad, she thought, touching it gently, very superficial. No lasting damage save maybe a small scar, she thought.  
  
Hopefully the rest of her companions (or former companions, rather) had fared just as well.  
  
After a few minutes, she felt right enough to begin her trek down from her spot up amongst the jagged rocks on the side of the mountain where she'd been unconscious for some time, it seemed. She couldn't for the life of her remember why she'd been up there in the first place but she vaguely recalled catching sight of the eagles before the rock took her out. Who had been throwing rocks during the middle of the battle, anyway? It was probably a dwarf, the silly bastards.  
  
At the bottom of the great rocks, Bilbo was met with the sight of several camps that had been erected all across the battlefield, presumably to house the wounded who were not well enough to be taken too far from where they'd been struck down. There were a few figures moving across the field, examining the bodies still left lying there, possibly to see if any of them were still alive. It seemed the dead had not yet been moved. There were too many of them.  
  
She tried very hard not to think about that, and again wondered why no one had found her. _Although,_ a sad voice spoke in the back of her head, _they probably weren't looking for you._  
  
That was a stupid thought, she told herself, giving her head a small shake. Even if Thorin had banished her, it had been obvious at the time that the others in the Company had not agreed with his decision and still considered her a friend. She knew some of them had certainly seen her during the battle and she had faith that they would have come looking for her.  
  
Unless something far more dire had taken up their attention.  
  
She froze suddenly, a cold wave of realization washing over her. She'd seen Fíli and Kíli struck down, one after the other. She remembered she'd screamed for them and fought to get to their side but somehow never made it. And Thorin she could see in her mind's eye, over and over again, taking a blow across his ribs and stomach. A blow that was deep and jagged and fatal.  
  
Her feet were carrying her across the field, then, her head turning this way and that, no longer caring about the pain, looking for someone, anyone that she recognized who could tell her what had happened. _Don't be dead,_ Bilbo pleaded to whatever gods might be listening. _Please don't let them be dead, please, please..._  
  
Her inner mantra was cut off when she nearly ran right into Balin. She stumbled for a second, catching herself before she hit him, but he did not seem to notice her at all. He was standing at the front of a large tent, and even in the dark Bilbo could tell that his pallor was quite pale and he looked as if he'd aged a century since she last saw him.  
  
“Balin!”  
  
The old dwarf started, looking around with his eyes wide. “Bilbo?!”  
  
“I'm right here,” she said, stepping forward, before a thought occurred to her. He genuinely couldn't see her, which for a dwarf was unusual as they had extremely keen eyesight in the dark. And she hadn't been found by anyone up in the rocks, and no one had noticed her dashing around the camp, which meant...  
  
She glanced down at her left hand and found that her magic ring was still on her finger, leaving her utterly invisible to the world around her. She took it off, stuffing it hastily into her pocket, and Balin gave another surprised jump. “Bilbo! There you are! You're alive!”  
  
“Amazingly enough, yes,” she said with a nod and a quick touch to her head. “How I didn't get trampled to death is a true mystery. But that's not important right now. Balin, tell me, what's happened? I saw Thorin and the boys, they...” she trailed off, unable to voice her fears but she knew from Balin's expression that he knew what she meant.  
  
“It was not good, lass,” he said, with a sigh and shake of his head. “The three of them sustained substantial injuries, Thorin taking the worst of it. He was near death by the time we got to him.”  
  
Bilbo felt her insides run cold.  
  
“We thought for sure they wouldn't make it. Oín was doing all he could, but it did not seem enough. But then, the Wizard showed up with King Thranduil. I could not tell you what Gandalf must have done to convince the Elvenking to help, but the two of them, with Oín's assistance, have performed what I can only describe as a miracle.”  
  
Bilbo thought for sure that the very ground beneath her feet was going to give way.  
  
Balin gave her a small smile. “They'll live. Battered and bruised they'll be, but they'll live. The boys are already causing mischief, I've heard, trying to get a rise out of the Elvish healers set to watch over them. Not even a near death experience such as this can get those two to calm down and grow up, it seems.”  
  
“And Thorin?” Why did her voice have to break like that, as if she was on the verge of tears? How terribly embarrassing.  
  
“He's right in there,” Balin said, gesturing to the tent right behind him. His small smile grew as he watched her eyes dart to the tent-flap and instinctively take a step forward. “He's been asking for you, Bilbo.”  
  
She turned to stare at him sharply. “What? Why?” Her brow furrowed as Balin's smile grew wider. “He banished me. He- what more does he have to say to me?”  
  
“What indeed,” the old dwarf said, his eyes twinkling at her in a way that reminded Bilbo a bit too much of Gandalf at times. “I imagine you'll want to hear it, seeing as you did come back just to make sure he was still of this world.” His smile faltered a bit and he took on a more serious expression. “I understand that what he did was wrong, Bilbo, terribly wrong, and you'll never hear me try to defend him and his actions. But the goldsickness, that had so clouded his mind before, it's slipped away. Somewhere in the heat of the battle, it left him. Maybe it was seeing his nephews struck down in front of him, or maybe it was something else, I do not know. But whatever it was, he's back now. Well and truly. He came back to us.” That last part he seemed to say more to himself than to Bilbo, the smile that graced his face this time more gentle and caring, like one who has seen a loved one again after a long time away.  
  
Bilbo let her gaze drift back to the entrance of the tent. Something inside her had shifted and she couldn't quite place what it was. She felt relief, mostly, but something else stirring inside of her. Hope, maybe? The last time she had seen Thorin, he had gifted her with a shirt made of mithril that was meant to keep her safe from all harm, and had stared at her with a look in his eyes that she recognized from her youth when she'd caught her father looking at her mother when Belladonna wasn't looking. The look that told Bilbo exactly why Belladonna had chosen to give her up life of adventure and flights of fancy to settle down with respectable Bungo, who had been her opposite in every way. It spoke of such wonder and happiness and just utter joy and adoration, and Bilbo had never in her life expected to be on the receiving end of such a look, yet there it had been, etched into every inch of the Dwarf King.  
  
She hadn't seen Thorin again after that. She'd seen someone with his likeness who used his voice but he was someone she did not know and had no desire to know, only at the time it seemed to her that his presence meant that Thorin may well have been dead before the battle even happened. That thought had broken her heart far more than any of the stranger's words or actions towards her, all the more because it was all too frighteningly familiar in a way she still was not ready to think about.  
  
“No one will think any less of you if you decide you don't want to see him,” Balin said, interrupting her thoughts. She glanced back at him and nodded.  
  
“I'd like to see him, if that's what he wants.”  
  
Balin smiled at her again and pulled back the tent flap to allow her in. She entered the tent and immediately wished that she'd perhaps waited just a bit longer to come see him, maybe after he'd moved into another tent or something because the smell was rancid. The mix of the iron tang of blood and the various mints from the large amount of herbal medicine was just awful and it was a wonder to Bilbo that she didn't throw up right then. But then she caught sight of Thorin, laid out on a cot with his shirt gone, exposing his heavily bandaged chest and stomach. The bandages had obviously been changed more than once already because the blood stains seeping through now were not so large as she had thought they'd be, and she caught sight of a large pile of wet, red cloth in a bucket off to the side.  
  
To say that he looked a mess would have been the understatement of the century. The parts of his body that weren't covered in bandages were still heavily bruised, all manner of purple and yellowish greens, and there were smaller cuts and scraps all over, including his face. His hair was dirty and bloodied, plastered to his face and chest with sweat. If it weren't for the steady rise and fall of his chest, she'd have truly believed he already was dead. She felt a knot tighten in her stomach at the thought. She would have to find some way to thank Gandalf later.  
  
Thorin had been on the verge of sleep, but sensing her presence, he shifted slightly and his eyes fluttered open. It took him a moment for his vision to clear and his gaze settled on her. Again, Bilbo thought the ground beneath her feet was about to give way but this time for an entirely different reason.  
  
“Bilbo...” His voice was softer than she'd ever heard it before, but rough and scratched, presumably from all the screaming he'd done during the battle and afterward. It was a wonder he still had a voice at all. He opened his mouth to speak again, but stopped, his mouth turning downwards in a deep frown. “What happened to your head?”  
  
“Oh.” She reached up again to touch her wound, delighted to find it was no longer bleeding but must still look awful to anyone looking at her. “I got hit in the head with a rock, if you can imagine. Nothing serious, just given me a bit of a headache.”  
  
Thorin blinked at her and she could practically see the gears in his head working overtime to properly process what she'd said. Finally, he spoke, “You were hit... by a rock?”  
  
“Indeed. I'm not quite sure where it came from or why someone was throwing small rocks about, I mean if it had hit anyone other than me I'm sure it would have had no effect, but there it is.” She shuffled from foot to foot uncomfortably. She was doing her best to sound natural but really, being so close to him and him looking so very dead was doing a number on her nerves.  
  
There was a pause as he turned her words over in his head before finally deciding that she seemed alright and it really wasn't worth dwelling on at the moment, so he turned back to her, looking as uncomfortable as she felt. “Bilbo, I... I am glad you're safe.”  
  
She offered him a small smile. “I'm glad you're alive.”  
  
“Only just,” he said with a sigh. “Oín told me that Fíli and Kíli suffered terrible injuries as well but that they, too, will live.”  
  
Bilbo nodded. “That's what I've been told. I haven't had the chance to see them yet with my own eyes, I-” She stopped herself and lowered her eyes to the ground. She didn't know if she really wanted to say that she'd come straight to Thorin first (although, to be fair, that was just a coincidence. Really.)  
  
She could feel his gaze moving over her and wondered just what he was looking for. When he spoke again, his voice was even quieter and heavy with emotion. “I cannot begin to apologize for what transpired between us. What... What I have done.”  
  
“Then don't,” she said quickly, looking up at him and hoping he could see the sincerity in her eyes, hear it in her voice. “Please, Thorin, I already know. I can see it in your face clear as day, and I really don't want to have to spend the rest of my life hearing you apologize for something I know you didn't have control over.”  
  
“But-”  
  
“No, _listen_.” She took several steps closer to him. “I know what you have to say to me and I know that you mean it, and in the end, that's what's important to me. That you mean it.” She sighed, sitting down on the edge of Thorin's bed, not close enough to disturb his bandages and risk hurting him, but close enough that she could reach out and gently cover his hand with hers. “The truth of it is that I was very frightened, but not of you. _For_ you. Because when the sickness took hold of you, I thought you were gone forever. I don't know your grandfather, but I remember the stories you and the others told me about him. About how he succumbed to the goldsickness. When I saw it in you, I just-” She had to stop for a moment and take a calming breath before continuing. “I'm not angry with you, Thorin. There are always things in this world that are stronger than us, whether we are an elf, wizard, or Dwarf King. Even us hobbits are not immune to the darker things in this world. But you fought against that darkness which consumed you, and you won. You came back.” She gave his hand a slight squeeze. “Most others would never have been able to do that.”  
  
Thorin was staring at her as if he was seeing her for the first time, eyes wide and full of surprise. Then he shook his head, slowly. “But it was too late. Too late, if I hadn't been such a fool... none of this would have happened.” He took a shallow breath, and squeezed her hand back in turn. “I may have survived but there has still been so much death. Far too much. And it is my fault. It should never have happened.”  
  
“But it has happened,” Bilbo replied, her voice gentle. “It has happened, and there is no point in dwelling on it now. It's done. Instead of lingering on the past and things we cannot change, we should look to the future that's before us now. You've done what you've set out to do and reclaimed the Lonely Mountain. I imagine it's going to take a lot of time and a lot of work to set everything in order there, and for now I think that's quite enough to have on your mind without worrying over things you can't do anything about anymore.”  
  
He stared at her in silence, his head tilted to the side and she thought for a second he was going to laugh at her for some reason. “You should hate me,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.  
  
She gave a half-shrug at that. “Perhaps, but then, I wouldn't be a hobbit. See, we hobbits don't really hold on to grudges. Even our nastiest relatives that we don't like, we'd never really say we hate them. It's just not in our nature to do so. It's in our nature to forgive, and that's what I choose to do now. I don't want to turn into a spiteful old bat, you know, and I fear that's exactly what would happen if I hated you. Such a feeling would fester and grow inside me until I was miserable and overly melancholy. I'd like to think my happiest days are still ahead of me, thank you very much.”  
  
“You are such a strange little thing,” he breathed, shutting his eyes tightly and clutching on to her hand as if it was the only thing keeping him alive. “A strange, strange little thing.”  
  
Bilbo smiled at that and they lapsed into an oddly comfortable silence, the King lying with eyes closed and holding her hand as she sat by his side. It seemed strange and terrifying that less than an hour ago, she had thought for sure that he was dead, in one fashion or another, and now he was here by her side, and while he wasn't whole, he was healing. She had very nearly lost this, lost him, and it made her want to hold on to him tighter. _Stupid dwarf._  
  
They passed several minutes in this way before he spoke again, his voice purposefully neutral. “What will you do now, Bilbo?”  
  
She stiffened. _Oh._  
  
“W-well, I hadn't, I honestly hadn't thought... I'll certainly be staying here until you and the boys are healed, but I supposed after that-” Her stomach dropped and she suddenly felt very cold again. “After that, I suppose I'll just... go home. To the Shire.”  
  
“You don't sound very thrilled by the prospect,” Thorin pointed out, opening one eye and watching her with intent.  
  
“It'll just be very odd, you know,” she said, trying to keep herself calm over the sudden wave of emotions that had exploded inside of her. She really, really had not thought about this and now that she was, the prospect seemed so sad. She just couldn't picture it anymore, her, alone, in Bag End with nothing more than a small pile of trinkets and a heart full of memories. Before, that was all she had wanted. So much had changed in the last few months.  
  
Bilbo looked up in surprise when Thorin squeezed her hand again. “You do not have to go.” His voice was quiet but firm and filled with conviction. “You could always stay here, with us, if that is what you desire. We would not have ever reclaimed Erebor if not for you, Bilbo, and you will always find a home here if that's what you want it to be.”  
  
She shifted under his gaze, looking down at her hand in his. She'd be lying if she said the thought hadn't crossed her mind, but somehow it, too, seemed wrong somehow. “And what would I do here?” she asked. “What would my role in Erebor be if I chose to stay?”  
  
“Whatever you wanted it to be,” he said. “Just... just so long as you were there. _Here_. At my side.”  
  
“That's a terribly vague answer,” she said with a sigh before her brain ground to a halt then went into quick reverse as she registered what he'd said to her. Slowly, Bilbo raised her gaze to meet Thorin's again and there was _that look_ , that look that she'd never expected to see in her life or ever again after the Arkenstone, but there it was, written into every line of his face as he looked at her. “At your side?”  
  
Now it was his turn to shift uncomfortably. “Yes, at my side. You're a member of the Company and I would have you with all with me when I am truly King.”  
  
“That is very clearly not what you meant,” she said, leaning towards him, her the corners of her lips twitching. “Did you just propose to me in the most round-about way imaginable?”  
  
She swore he was blushing and that just made her heart race. “What in Mahal's name gave you that idea? How did you possibly come to that conclusion?!”  
  
“Because!” She threw her hands into the air, exasperated. “You said 'at your side'! When a man says to a woman that he wants her at his side, he usually doesn't mean it in a casual, we're-just-friends manner, does he?”  
  
“You truly think that if I meant to propose to you that I would not simply come out and say it properly?”  
  
“No, you wouldn't!”  
  
He glowered and mumbled something to himself, folding his arms carefully over his chest. Bilbo leaned away from him, also folding her arms and trying to put on her grumpiest expression.  
  
Perhaps she was making a huge assumption, maybe she was just hearing what she wanted to hear. After all, it wasn't like they were ever actually together in any fashion, and her (admittedly limited) understanding of dwarf courtship implied that they tended to last awhile before marriage was ever even discussed so it would be an enormous leap, but...  
  
Still. 'I want you here at my side.' It definitely sounded like more to her. Must have been his tone of voice. His deep, rumbly voice...  
  
“I suppose you will have to get married now, won't you?” She asked. “Now that you're King and actually have a Kingdom. That's the sort of thing that's expected of you, I imagine.”  
  
“You imagine many things, Mistress Burglar,” he grumbled, not looking at her. Bilbo rolled her eyes in response. “I would think there are some who would want me to marry, but it's not a huge concern, at this point. I am not an only child, and my sister was blessed with two sons, so it's not as if there's any pressure anymore to continue the line. I do not believe my people will be that concerned as to whether or not I chose to take a bride. I reclaimed their Kingdom, what more can they ask of me?”  
  
Bilbo smirked at Thorin's poor attempt at a joke. Humor was never his strong point but it amused her all the same.  
  
“And as it is, I don't believe my people will have much to say if I do take a bride who is not a dwarf.”  
  
“Yes well I imagine that would cause quite th- pardon?”  
  
She was extremely thankful she couldn't see herself in that moment because she must've looked like an insect with her eyes nearly popping out of her head.  
  
“As it turns out,” he said, turning back to her and looking into her eyes, “nearly getting killed sometimes makes you do things you might normally have not done. Such as vaguely suggesting to a hobbit that you haven't even courted yet that you might get married sometime soon. Life is not so long as I had thought it was, and I am not invincible, so it seems that I should do my best with the life I have left to make every moment worthwhile. I can think of no better way to achieve that than to spend the rest of my life with you, if you would have me.”  
  
It took every ounce of restraint in Bilbo's tiny body not to lunge forward and smack him round the head. The nerve, making her think she was delusional. But her heart was beating out of her chest and she felt for a moment as if she couldn't breath. “You don't seriously mean that.”  
  
“I do,” he said and damnit all, she could see in his eyes that he meant it. “If I could, I'd marry you right here and now.”  
  
She let out a small laugh. “I'm sure the others would have a massive fit if you did. Dwarves are supposed to be all about tradition and custom.”  
  
“It's not unheard of for dwarves to elope instead of going through the process of courting and a drawn out wedding. They can be very tedious, it must be said.”  
  
“You do know that I'm a hobbit, right?”  
  
He raised an eyebrow at her. “I'm well aware.”  
  
She flushed and shook her head, her soft curls dancing around her face. “No, I know, it's only that- look, I know you said your people wouldn't care but I just don't believe that. I don't believe that they wouldn't have a problem with their king marrying a hobbit, and Thorin, I do not want to be the source of dispute amongst your people, not after everything you've done to get this far.”  
  
“It's exactly because of everything I've done to get this far that no one with half a brain would say anything if I married a hobbit. Especially not you, the hobbit who ensured our success on this quest in the first place. Even if there were those who did not like it, they would not have the nerve to ever say it, and why should I care what they think? Truly? I am King. I reclaimed this Mountain. They will not stop me from wedding who I wish. And there are far more important things for them to be worrying about than whom I marry.”  
  
“You are actually serious,” Bilbo whispered, wondering if this wasn't all a hallucination brought on by the rock to her head. “You actually want to marry me?”  
  
Thorin nodded, and the serious look in his eyes left no room for argument on the matter. He was completely serious and meant every word he said.  
  
Bilbo laughed, loudly, a laugh that shook her whole body until she was doubled over and clutching her stomach. “Amazing,” she gasped between her laughs. “Simply amazing. Not a single hobbit in the Shire ever wanted to marry me but now I've got a King Under the Bloody Mountain who wants to elope with me. I must've got a good whiff off Gandalf's pipe, it's the only explanation.”  
  
The Dwarf King rolled his eyes, reaching out a hand and placing it on her shoulder. “Bilbo.”  
  
“I do,” she choked out, trying to steady herself. “I do, want to marry you, I mean, it's only-” she started to laugh again “-you're a King! I'm just a simple hobbit! I have no business marrying a King!”  
  
“You're hardly simple,” he said, his voice low. “I said it before: you're the reason we succeeded in taking back Erebor from the dragon. We would not have made it very far at all if it weren't for you. You were utterly unexpected in every way, Bilbo Baggins, and I am eternally in your debt for all you've done for me and my people.”  


“So you would marry me? You'd skip all the pomp and ceremony of a proper courtship and just... marry me?”  
  
Here he tilted his head to the side slightly, looking a bit unsure. “If that is what you wish, yes. If you'd rather we court and marry in a few years time, that would be just as well. As long as in the end, we are together.”  
  
“Has Balin been giving you instructions on how to be romantic?” she asked, a sly smile crossing her face. “As long as in the end, we are together.” She spoke to phrase to herself a few more times, quietly, as if testing how they sounded, how they tasted on her tongue. The whole time he watched her, trying hard not to fidget from his nervousness. He was a King, damnit, and Kings do not fidget. “I sort of knew, or at least, I had a thought that you might- that you felt like I- but I never thought anything would ever come of it.” Bilbo sighed, running a hand through her hair. Then she broke out in the brightest smile and Thorin was sure for a moment he had actually died. “I suppose we'll just have to get married, then.”  
  
Thorin blinked. “Sorry?”  
  
“Well we've been together for a year, and at least the second half, we could construct that as a courtship. Sort of. You gave me a mithril shirt, that seems like a wonderful courting gift.”  
  
Thorin grumbled something to himself again and Bilbo thought he might've said that was his intention, but ignored him and went on: “So, you know. To hell with it. Let's get married.”  
  
Thorin blinked again. “Really?”  
  
Bilbo turned on him with a look that silenced the King before he could even begin to say another word. “Don't question me now, Thorin Oakenshield. You started this!”  
  
“I know but I didn't expect you to agree!”  
  
“Yes, well, I love you.”  
  
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Bilbo felt as if an enormous weight had been lifted from her shoulders. It had been there inside her for so long, probably longer than she was willing to admit, and now, finally, it was out. She'd said it, she'd meant it, and he'd heard. And somehow it made all the fear, the insecurity, the pressure she'd been feeling since they'd set foot into the shadow of the mountain disappear.  
  
There was a quiet moment where Thorin just stared at her. Then he smiled, slowly, gently, and any doubts in the back of Bilbo's mind were silenced. “I love you,” he said with such sincerity it almost made Bilbo cry for joy.  
  
And then Bilbo was on her feet, beaming down at him. “Well, now that that's settled. You need to rest.”  
  
Thorin's expression fell. “That's it?”  
  
She gave him a quick nod, already heading for the entrance to the tent. “I'm going to go see Fíli and Kíli. Make sure they're as alright as Balin assured me they are. I'll come back afterward to let you know how they are but really, Thorin, you need to rest. You've just narrowly avoided death. We'll have plenty of time to talk more once you're healed.”  
  
His expression softened at the mention of his two nephews and he nodded. “Yes, I'm sure it'll do them good to see you. They missed you a great deal and were worried sick when the fighting started. And I would very much appreciate it to hear from you that they are well.”  
  
She smiled at him and nodded. “Don't worry. I know you wish to be by their side yourself, but I'll make sure they're alright. Just rest now.”  
  
Bilbo didn't wait for a response, turning instead and stepping out of the tent into the night air. It was completely dark now, save for the few candles scattered around the camp. Balin was still standing outside waiting for him, though he'd since been joined by Gandalf, Oín, and Dori. Oín and Dori both started speaking at once as soon as they saw her, falling over themselves to apologize and check her to make sure she was alright (Oín in particular started up a fuss over her head, which he saw in the light of Gandalf's staff.) Balin, for his part, was smiling at her and she wondered if he had perhaps been listening in the entire time. Gandalf stepped forward, looking relieved to see her, and reached out to place a hand on her shoulder. “Miss Baggins, I do not think I have ever been so relieved to see anyone in all my life.”  
  
Bilbo rolled her eyes. “You've said that to me before, Gandalf.”  
  
“And I've meant it every time,” he said with a crooked grin. “And how is our King?”  
  
She shrugged. “As well as can be expected. Worried over his nephews, overly apologetic, and, well, he's planning a wedding.” She grinned widely at the shocked expressions on her companions faces before turning to Gandalf (who looked taken aback as well). “If you don't mind, Gandalf, would you take me to see Fíli and Kíli? I feel like they may need something to cheer them up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hate myself and everything i have chosen to do


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the nice comments on the prologue. :)

The months following the Battle of Five Armies seemed to roll by surprisingly fast to Bilbo. Perhaps it was because everyone was constantly busy working to restore the Kingdom to its former glory, but one day Bilbo had been moving around the camp outside Erebor's gates helping Oín care for the wounded, and the next thing Bilbo knew, a year had passed her by. Thorin was truly King Under the Mountain, and under his rule the people had begun to flourish. Erebor was still a long way away from being as grand as it had been before the dragon came, but there was no longer any doubt in the minds of Durin's folk that it would reach that height once more.  
  
As soon as Thorin had been able to leave his sickbed and fully return to the world of the living, he and Bilbo were married. It was very much a legal procedure with only Gandalf, the Company, Dain, and Dís (who had arrived with the first caravan) present. There was no party or much of anything in the way of a real wedding. That would come later, Thorin had said. Later, when Erebor was blossoming once more and they could give their people a real reason to celebrate. Then they were have a ceremony that would be sung about for centuries to come. For now, they were content to just finally be together.  
  
Except that now Bilbo held the title of Queen Consort and she had no idea what that entailed.  
  
Balin had tried to explain it to her several times and each time she found it more exasperating. “You'll share Thorin's titles and privileges, of course,” the old dwarf had assured her. “You'll be expected to attend big events and the like, but you won't have to concern yourself with Erebor's politics. That will still be on Thorin to deal with.”  
  
“So I have no power at all, is what you're saying,” Bilbo had responded, her mouth pulled down in a tight frown. “I'll be Queen only in name. I just have to sit beside Thorin and look pretty, is that it?”  
  
“That is just the way it is, my dear,” Balin had said with a sigh. “There are still plenty of ways you can use your position for great good, of course. But it is the King who has the power.”  
  
“Hmm.”  
  
The whole thing was quite ridiculous, in Bilbo's mind. Why give her the title of Queen at all if she had no power? Not that Bilbo necessarily wanted to have power or be a political player, quite the opposite, the less she had to deal with it the better, but the fact that she wouldn't have been able to even if she had wanted to was troublesome.  
  
But she kept those thoughts to herself and focused her energy instead on doing what she could to make life better for those who were now, technically, her subjects. That was something she knew she could do well. She could make others happy.  
  
And if all else failed, she could win over her subjects with good food. It had worked wonders for her before.  
  
The biggest downside to being married to the King that Bilbo had found so far was that being King was a very time consuming job. On most days, Bilbo saw him in the morning briefly before they both went their separate ways to do whatever it was that needed doing that day to rebuild the Kingdom. She might catch glimpses of him throughout the day, get in a short moment with him here and there, but usually it was only in the evenings that they really got to spend time together.  
  
And frequently they were both much too tired to make good use of that time.  
  
Bilbo found herself spending most of her time with Bombur, Bofur, and Bifur. Bombur ran the kitchens along with his wife, Finna, who had come with their large brood on the same caravan as Dís, while Bofur and Bifur had taken to using their old craft to create necessities, namely furniture. Bilbo couldn't help the cousins with their carving, but she kept them company and brought them food and drink whenever she could. They spent most of their time working down by the kitchens so as to be close to Bombur and to help keep an eye on his unruly children, the majority of whom were at the age now where they wanted to be treated like adults but weren't yet willing to let go of their more childish impulses.  
  
Fíli and Kíli came to visit her as often as they could manage, but their time was wrapped up in helping their uncle do whatever it was he was doing at any given time. Still, it made Bilbo happy to see them all together, alive and finally at home.  
  
Their mother was an interesting woman. Bilbo hadn't had the chance to spend nearly as much time with Dís as she would have liked, but from what she knew of the woman, she liked her a great deal.  
  
For some reason, Bilbo had envisioned Thorin's sister to look more like him, probably because of the distinct family resemblance between Thorin and Kíli. As it turned out, Fíli was the one who had inherited his mother's looks. Dís was almost as tall as Thorin with almost as much muscle but that was about where the similarities ended. Her hair was a rich blonde, a few shades lighter than Fíli's (though that may have been because it was considerably less dirty, Bilbo couldn't really tell). Her bone structure, eye color and shape, all of it was Fíli. The only thing about her appearance that told Bilbo for sure that she was Thorin's sister was the nose. It was very... _distinct_.  
  
The day Dís had arrived, Bilbo truly thought that they were going to have to crown a new king. Dwalin and Dori had had to physically restrain Dís from throwing herself on Thorin and ripping him apart limb for limb with her bare hands. Bilbo had made a point to memorize the look of sheer terror on his face because she was certain she was never going to see anything quite like it again. Unless the idiot somehow got Fíli and Kíli nearly killed again, which, in fairness, was not all that unlikely. But Dís had been nothing but kind and gracious to Bilbo, treating her as family from the moment they met. She had a good heart and a wise head, Bilbo thought, but she definitely saw where the boys had gotten their mischievous nature from. Dís hadn't been allowed to kill Thorin, but she had extracted her revenge in other ways (which were not to ever be mentioned where Thorin could hear).  
  
It wasn't until Durin's Day was less than a month off that Bilbo really registered just how long it had been.  
  
As much as she hated to admit it, she hadn't thought very much about the Shire and her family back home nearly as often as she probably should have. She had been gone nearly two years without ever sending word back to them to let them know she was alright. Did they think she was dead? If they thought she was alive, did they ever wonder where she was and what she was doing? Their wildest imaginations of what her life had been like since leaving probably were not as surprising as what had actually happened, truthfully.  
  
Even after marrying Thorin, Bilbo had always intended to go back to Bag End at some point, if only to bring the rest of her possessions back to the mountain and set her estate in order. She'd put the thought out of her mind because she thought she couldn't take the time away, but maybe now it was time to just do it. She was starting to feel that if she didn't go back soon, she never would. It was an odd feeling.  
  
The day Bilbo made her decision to go back, she was down in the kitchens helping Bombur make dinner. It was a long, laborious task to make a large meal for so many dwarves, and even more so if they wanted the meal to be any good. There were some days that Bombur began preparing the evening meal before the sun had even risen. Bilbo always made a point to assist him on those days.  
  
Today, however, she seemingly wasn't being much help for Bombur tapped on her shoulder and asked, with a look of concern on his face, “Are you alright, Bilbo? You look about to fall asleep on your feet.”  
  
Bilbo blinked at him, trying to focus. Her mind was oddly muddled that day and she couldn't pinpoint why. She'd slept fine the night before, but this had been happening to her a lot over the past week or two. She was just so tired.  
  
With a sigh, she patted Bombur appreciatively on the arm. “I'm alright, Bombur, just a bit tired is all. Nothing to worry about.”  
  
The large dwarf raised his eyebrow at her. “You don't seem alright. You've been staring at a half peeled potato for close to thirty minutes.”  
  
“I- what?” she glanced down in front of her. Indeed, there was a stack of potatoes that she was supposed to have peeled, and closest to her was one that she had stated on and then seemingly stopped half-way through, the knife lying carelessly at its side. “Oh. I'm terribly sorry, Bombur, I don't know what got hold of me.”  
  
“I don't know that you should be handling knives like this, Bilbo,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Have you been getting enough sleep?” He paused, then added quietly, “Thorin's not keeping you up late, is he?”  
  
She blushed and shook her head. “No, no, I've been sleeping fine. I really don't know what I've been feeling this way lately.”  
  
“So this isn't the first time?”  
  
There was a moment of hesitation before Bilbo nodded. “It's not too bad, though, really. It hasn't affected my work until now. I just... I don't know, I've been a bit more fatigued than usual lately.”  
  
“Perhaps you've made yourself sick from overworking yourself,” Bombur suggested. “You've been doing so much to help where you can, maybe it's just a bit too much for you. Having you been feeling well, otherwise?”  
  
She gave a small shrug. “Mostly, yes. I've been having headaches a bit more frequently, but I thought that was to be expected.” She thought it over for a moment, casting her mind back over the past two weeks to see if anything else had been out of the ordinary. “Sometimes I feel dizzy, but it passes quickly enough. I don't know, I hadn't really taken much note of it, to be honest. It was all just a mild inconvenience at worst.”  
  
“I think you should pay Oín a visit. You might be coming down with something, Bilbo, and no one wants to see you unwell. If you catch it now, perhaps you can avoid the worst of it.”  
  
She rolled her eyes. “I appreciate the concern, Bombur, really I do, but it's nothing to worry about. And anyway, I've got things to take care of. I'm supposed to be helping you.”   
  
Bombur's eyebrows were nearly at his hairline. “You were supposed to be helping, yes. You weren't actually doing anything.”  
  
Her head lowered, the tips of her ears flushing a bright red with embarrassment. “Yes, yes, sorry about that. It won't happen again.”  
  
“Don't apologize to me.” Bombur wrapped an arm around her shoulder and began steering her towards the door. “Just please, Bilbo, go see Oín and make sure you're alright, will you? Thorin will have my head if I let anything happen to you. Finna will be here shortly, anyway, so I'll be getting along fine. You need to start worrying about yourself more, you know. You're always looking after the rest of us and neglecting yourself.”  
  
A soft sigh escaped her lips. She couldn't work up the strength right then to be annoyed. “I just don't want to be useless.”  
  
“You'll be useless if you let yourself get sick, my lass!” He chuckled, patting her on the back. “Go on, go on, I'll be fine. If I find out you haven't gone to see Oín by this evening, I will be most cross with you.”  
  
She laughed. “Can't have that, can we?”  
  
With that she set out to where Oín had set up his infirmary.  
  
In all honesty, she thought, it was high time she went to Oín anyway. She had always been on top of her health back in the Shire, visiting the local doctor as regularly as she could for a standard check-up to make sure everything was in order, but since moving to Erebor, she simply hadn't found the time. Which, really, was unacceptable. Like Bombur had said, she wasn't any good to anyone if she got herself sick and the last thing they all needed was for her to work herself into an early grave.  
  
And even if she was sick, Oín would be able to give her something for it. There was nothing to worry about. She'd be back to normal in no time.  
  
  
  
  
“You're pregnant.”  
  
There was a long, drawn out silence as Bilbo stared at the old dwarf, expression blank. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet and her tone even. “I'm sorry, can you please repeat that?”  
  
Oín sighed, rubbing his hand over his brow. “You're with child, lass.”  
  
“That's not possible.”  
  
“Clearly it _is_ possible."  
  
She continued to stare at him, no emotion showing on her face. “That's not... It can't... You're sure?”  
  
“I've been in this line of work a long time,” Oín said with a nod. “I can honestly say, I've never been wrong about this before. Do you doubt me, Bilbo?”  
  
“No, I don't doubt you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. They sat in silence for awhile, Bilbo still staring into space. Then she said, “What do I do?”  
  
Oín looked at her as if she had sprouted another head out of her neck. “What do you mean, what do you do? You have a baby, of course. That's still a few months off, still, but that's usually what happens in this situations. Until then you just take care of yourself, and of course I'll be here to help you through it. You needn't worry. As I said, I've done this before.”  
  
“Right.” She blinked rapidly, as if a bright light had just shone in her face. “Right.” Suddenly she started as if she'd just woken from a deep sleep and was on her feet in an instant. “I should tell Thorin.”  
  
Oín nodded. “Yes, you should. In fact, I want you both to come see me again tomorrow. Together. There is much for us to go over, but for now I think it's best you see your husband.” He paused, then added, “I imagine the King will be even more surprised than you. He was always convinced he would never have children of his own.”  
  
“Yes, well, so was I,” Bilbo muttered to herself, turning away from Oín. She made to leave but paused at the door, turning back to him with an almost pleading look on her face. “Promise me you won't tell anyone about this. Not yet, at least. I really... I'd rather we keep it between us. And Thorin. Promise?”  
  
“Of course. Everything that goes on in this infirmary is strictly confidential,” Oín assured her. “You have nothing to worry about, Bilbo. This is all perfectly natural.”  
  
“Yes. Yes, of course it is,” she said with a small nod, her face slipping back to its blank expression. “Thank you, Oín. Good day.”  
  
It did not take her long to find Thorin, although in her mind it felt like an eternity. Her thoughts had completely shut down, unwilling or unable to process their information she'd just received, her feet leading her on their own to where they knew Thorin was likely to be.  
  
She caught him just as he was leaving a meeting with Dain and the other council members. He smiled widely when he saw her approach and Bilbo felt the sudden urge to be sick. But she held it in and after a moment she was standing before him.  
  
“I did not expect to see you until later this evening,” he said as she came to a stop in front of him. “I thought you were to help Bombur in the kitchens today?”  
  
“I was,” she said, quietly, not wanting any of the other dwarves milling about to hear her words. “But I was feeling unwell so I paid Oín a visit.”  
  
Thorin's expression quickly turned to a look of concern and he reached out to touch her cheek. “Are you alright?”  
  
“I think it best if we speak in private.”  
  
The concern in his eyes grew and he nodded, taking her by the hand and leading her to his private study. As soon as the door was closed behind them, he turned to her and looked her over as if trying to spot an injury. “Are you alright?”  
  
“Oín says I'm pregnant.” There really was no point in beating around the bush.  
  
Thorin froze. His mouth hung slightly open as he stared at her, his eyes wide in surprise. She waited patiently for him to recover. Then he found his voice again. “How?”  
  
All at once, the gears in Bilbo's head were moving again and she tilted her head to the side, staring at Thorin in wonderment. “Please tell me that word did not just come out of your mouth, Thorin Oakenshield.”  
  
He flushed and looked away in embarrasment. “That is _not_ what I meant. I am well aware how children are concieved. Only...” Here he looked back at her, an expression she couldn't quite read on his face. “Only I thought _we_ never could.”  
  
Bilbo sighed, moving to sit in one of Thorin's comfortable armchairs. “So did I.”  
  
Thorin followed her and pulled another armchair over to sit across from her. “It's just... I know we never really spoke of it as we probably should have done, but I assumed, and I believed you did as well, that we were too different to be able to have a child together. Biologically, I mean.”  
  
“I did assume that,” she said, her shoulders slumping. “A foolish thing to do, making assumptions. I never shall do something so silly again, I promise you. But Oín is quite positive that I am.”  
  
“I have heard of men and elves having children together,” Thorin said, thoughtful. “But I have never heard of any other couplings between races producing children.”  
  
“It's possible we're the first. We'll have to ask Gandalf the next time he's around.”  
  
“Indeed, we will...”  
  
They trailed off into an uncomfortable silence, not looking at each other and both lost in their own thoughts.  
  
After some time, Thorin spoke up. “How do you feel about this?”  
  
It seemed like the wrong response, but all she could do was give him a non-committal shrug. “If I'm honest, I don't know how I feel about it. It's something I never considered would happen in my life, and now that it has, it simply doesn't feel real. I know it's still early days, but... I don't know. When I was in the Shire, whenever the other hobbit women learned they were carrying, it was a joyous occasion. They were always terribly excited from the very first day. But... as I said, it just doesn't feel real right now.”   
  
“With dwarves, the announcement of a pregnancy is always a cause for celebration,” Thorin said with a sigh, running his hand through his long hair. “They are so rare that every one is considered a blessing. There are some dwarves still shaking off the effects of the party Gloin threw when his wife was expecting. But I must admit, I agree with you. It does not feel real and I do not know how to feel.”

  
“I suppose... we should be happy, shouldn't we?” Her voice wavered for a moment as if she was about to cry and Thorin leaned forward to take her hands. “I mean, it seems we've done the impossible. A hobbit and a dwarf having a child together! Who would have ever guessed?”  
  
“It's certainly something for the history books,” Thorin replied, offering her a tentative smile.  
  
Bilbo laughed a light and airy laugh that made Thorin's smile grow. “I bet Gandalf knew, the absolute bastard. Perhaps he planned this from the start.”  
  
“I don't know that I'd put it passed it.”  
  
“Hmmm.”  
  
They lapsed into silence again, Bilbo staring down at their hands intwined in her lap as Thorin gently stroked the back of her hand with his thumb.   
  
“Thorin?”  
  
“Hmm.”  
  
“What will this mean for Fíli and Kíli?”  
  
Thorin exhaled as if he'd been holding in a deep breath the whole time, waiting for those very words to fall from her lips. “It means that they will now be second and third in line for throne, respectively.”  
  
“But that's... they've been your heirs all this time!” she exclaimed, sitting up straight and staring at him with an alarmed expression. “Fíli has gone his entire life believing he would be king after you!”  
  
“I know.” He sighed and seemed to sink into his armchair, pulling his hand away from hers and running it through his hair again. “There is nothing to be done about it. The king's own children are always first ahead of any siblings or nephews he might have. That's simply the way it is. The line of succession can only be altered under extreme circumstances.”   
  
“But there must be something you can do!”  
  
Thorin raised an eyebrow at her. “You do not want our child to be king?”  
  
That made her flush, her hands wringing in her lap. “Well, I- I don't know! It's hard to think about that when they're not here but Fíli is! I know Fíli, I _love_ Fíli, I-...” She stopped, lowering her gaze to look down at herself, raising her hands to gently touch her abdomen. Her words were quiet when she said, “I don't know this child.”   
  
Thorin leaned forward and opened his mouth to speak but Bilbo cut him off. “I know I should be happy, I really, really should be, but it's all just so complicated.” She shook her head and Thorin saw she had tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. “It's not as if we're just any dwarf and hobbit who just happened to have a child together. You're king! That changes... everything. It's not like our child can be just another happy addition to our family, there's politics involved. Rules and regulations and council members who grumble about having a hobbit for a Queen. I just don't know that it's worth it.”  
  
“What are you saying?” There was an oddly panicked look in Thorin's eyes that made Bilbo shiver.  
  
“I'm not suggesting we terminate the pregnancy, if that's what you're thinking. Is that even something you do here? I imagine not. No, I know we're going... to have the baby and keep it, I just. I worry what it will be like. If they'll have a good, happy life.” She sighed and raised her knees up to her chest, curling in on herself in the middle of the large armchair. “I'm afraid I'll be an awful mother.”  
  
Thorin shook his head fiercely. He stood and moved to crouch down in front of her, once again taking her hands in his and pressing a light kiss to her palm. “You will not be an awful mother. Of that I can assure you. I promise you, together we will protect this child and do everything we can to give him the best life we can give. He will be a happy addition to our family, and we will all love him.” After another quick kiss to her palm, he added, “And I believe that Fíli and Kíli will be happy. It may be difficult at first to adjust but Fíli is a strong, smart man and he will find his own path. Those two have always valued family above all else, so this will come as a welcome surprise to them, I think.”  
  
“You mean you hope.”  
  
He sighed, resting his forehead against her knee. “That too.”  
  
Bilbo took her hands from his and started to run them gently through his hair. The act seemed to soothe them both as Thorin relaxed under her hands and the repeated motion and the softness of his hair between her fingers drained some of the tension from her shoulders. “Thorin, I'd like to keep this a secret for the time being.”  
  
He shifted slightly under her touch but did not move from his spot. “Why?”  
  
“I don't know how it is with dwarf pregnancies, but...” She trailed off for a moment, staring absently at the back of his head, not really wanting to think, let alone talk, about this subject. “For hobbit pregnancies, it's not unusual for there to be... complications.”  
  
He raised his head to meet her eyes, eyes clouding over with worry. “What kind of complications?”  
  
She swallowed a lump in her throat. “It's fairly common for us hobbit women to... lose a pregnancy early on. Within the first few months. Especially new mothers. It's always a source of pain for the families, especially if the expecting couple has told people. My mother lost two pregnancies before she had me.”  
  
Thorin had paled considerably as she spoke. “I have never heard of such an issue amongst my people. What can be done? There must be a way to prevent such a thing.”  
  
“For my people, there isn't. It's just something that happens, usually for no real reason. Or if there are reasons, it's not something that's spoken about. My mother never said anything about it and I never heard it from any of neighbors or relatives. So I would simply feel more comfortable if we didn't tell anyone until I'm a bit further.”  
  
“If that is what you wish. But if Dís or the boys ask me directly about it, I do not wish to lie to them.”  
  
“If they figure it out on their own that's fine. But I don't want a proper announcement. Not yet.”  
  
Thorin nodded his understanding and agreement before he once more rested his forehead against her knee, taking several deep, calming breaths as Bilbo resumed stroking his hair.  
  
They stayed there for the rest of the evening, lost in thought and worry over this new direction their future had gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i meant for this chapter to be longer but i just reached the point where i couldn't do it anymore so here we go. hopefully future installments will be longer but we shall see.


End file.
